


For The Love Of Harry

by DNRX2



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-01-03
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:10:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9183157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DNRX2/pseuds/DNRX2
Summary: Harry finds out just how much his parents loved him just before seventh year





	

I do not make any money off these characters. I wish I did.

 

For the Love of Harry

The summer night was still hot, after such a sizzling July day. Harry’s room in the Dursleys’ house felt like an oven, even with the window wide open. He lay awake, trying to keep cool in his boxer shorts, thinking about his seventeenth birthday in three days. Harry felt a tingling of excitement. Hopefully, if all went well, this would be the last summer he would have to stay at Privet Drive. He was starting his seventh year at Hogwarts and looked forward to being on his own, after graduation. Harry rubbed his emerald eyes, trying to brush off the sweat. He really wanted to take a shower to cool off. He couldn’t because, he knew, that his Uncle Vernon would have a fit if he caught him. At school, he was free to take a shower, eat, laugh, and have friends. Here, it was like living in a prison. He wished again that his parents had not been killed. Life would have been so different. For one thing, he would have known he was loved.

Suddenly, an owl, with brown spotting throughout his feathers, appeared at the window. Hedwig looked up from her cage, disapproving.  
“Hey there!” Harry called softly, as the owl landed on his bed. Harry took the parchment and read it, as the owl nibbled on some treats Harry gave him.  
Dear Mr. Harry Potter;  
Please come to see me tomorrow morning at the Law Offices of Garrity And Marsden at eleven a.m. This is very important to your future. Enclosed is a card with our address.  
Sincerely  
Michael Garrity, Esq.  
P.S. DO NOT TELL THE DURSLEYS!  
Harry reread the letter twice, amazed at what he was reading. Why would a law firm be writing to me, he wondered. He had never heard of wizards practicing muggle law. He quickly wrote a note back, confirming his appointment, attaching it to the owl who promptly flew off. He got off his bed quietly and lit his wand to look for muggle money in his school trunk. Way down at the bottom, he found a pouch with enough to pay his fare on the bus.  
“Great, I have the money, but how am I going to sneak out?” Harry whispered to himself. He started to panic, but then relaxed, when he remembered that the Dursleys were leaving early in the morning. They were going to spend the weekend at Aunt Marge’s’ estate. He smiled to himself, thinking how annoyed Dudley was. He put up a screaming fit, but he had to go. Since Aunt Marge loathed Harry, he was to stay home. Harry breathed a sigh of relief, mixed with joy. The Dursleys were leaving at six a.m. and at eleven a.m. he would be with the lawyer. He fell asleep finally, still wondering about the note. At six thirty a.m., the Dursleys were ready to leave, with Dudley kicking and screaming in the car.  
“Now listen, boy,” Vernon Dursley threatened. Harry looked at him, expecting a blow from his hand. He wasn’t disappointed. Vernon grabbed him by his hair, lifting his head up. “I’m warning you. If I see anything amiss in my house, you’ll wish you had never been born. Is that clear?” Vernon hissed in his face.  
“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry promised.  
Vernon pushed him away, letting him fall as he slammed the front door on leaving. Harry sat on the floor, rubbing his face. He couldn’t even cry anymore. There was no one to comfort him if he did. After a while, there was no pain, just numbness at how life had turned out so far. He stayed on the floor until he was sure they were gone. He crawled to the window and smiled He was free. He ran upstairs and took a deep, cleansing shower. He washed his hair and used a perfumed soap to wash the stink of the Dursleys off his body.

At eleven a.m. Harry appeared at the office of Mr. Garrity. He was neatly dressed in black dress pants and a blue shirt, given to him by Ron and Hermione at Easter. He walked in the front door and was greeted cordially by the receptionist, a plump woman with curly gray hair and twinkling blue eyes. She was dressed in a light blue suit that matched her eyes.  
“Good morning Mr. Potter. We’ve been expecting you. Please, come right this way,” she said, in welcoming him. Harry was confused. In the muggle world, he was an outcast, a nothing. Only in the wizarding world did people treat him with some respect, when the saw the scar on his forehead, a gift from Lord Voldemort.  
“Call me Sara,” she said, as she seated him in a red chair with soft cushions across from the desk. Sara gave him a china teacup and saucer. She filled it with tea, adding just the right amount of sugar he loved. She left, after making sure he had enough tea sandwiches and tiny cakes on his plate. Harry was now more confused than ever. This woman was treating him like royalty. For the life of him, he didn’t understand why. Just as he swallowed a sandwich, an elderly gentleman entered the office. He stared at Harry with a grin that went ear to ear, and extended his hands.  
“Harry Potter, I’m Sean Garrity,” the gentleman introduced himself, reaching for Harry’s hands and kissing them.   
“Sir, do I know you?” Harry asked, becoming frightened by the spontaneous affection this man had for him.  
“No, my boy. But I know you. You are “The Boy Who Lived.” And you will defeat the Dark Lord again,” Mr. Garrity told him, with reverence in his voice.  
Harry was flabbergasted. He stared at Mr. Garrity wondering how a muggle would know who he was.  
“Who are you? How does a muggle know me?” he asked, pulling away from the lawyers’ touch.  
“Harry, don’t be afraid. I’m a Squib, as is Sara,” Mr. Garrity assured him. “Please relax, I’ll explain everything. Then you’ll understand why you are here.”  
Harry perched at the edge of his seat. Mr. Garrity sat at his desk, across from Harry and pulled out a large accordion file removing three sets of papers.  
“Now, let’s start from the beginning. Before you were born, your parents came to see me. Your dad, James, started a trust fund for you. Your mum, Lily, also started one from the money her father had left her,” Mr. Garrity explained as he gave Harry the sets of documents to read, pointing out the details. “Now, you have to remember, the war with “You-Know-Who” was raging. Lily was afraid that if she and James died, you would be left penniless. Your parents paid for your tuition and board, at Hogwarts, for the full seven years you would be there. James also set up a separate fund for your care,” Mr. Garrity continued, as he pulled out another folder and gave it to Harry. Harry’s green eyes opened wide as he read the paper.  
“This is the money to be given to the people who took care of me, if anything happened to my parents,” Harry whispered.  
“Which brings me to the reason why you are here today,” Mr. Garrity told him.  
“Which is what?” Harry asked, his voice trembling. “A lot of money seems to have been put away for me. Why didn’t I know about this? Who else knew about this?” Harry stopped and closed his eyes. He knew the answer. “The Dursleys knew!”  
“You should have known. I realized that you didn’t, when your uncle, and I use that term loosely, came in here asking to see your files,” Mr. Garrity informed him.  
“How did my uncle know?” Harry asked, nonplussed. Sara quietly came in and refilled his cup with fresh tea. Harry looked up gratefully as Sara patted his face.  
“Petunia, your aunt. She knew about the trust funds after your parents were killed. She didn’t know what they worth or what they entailed,” Mr. Garrity explained.  
Harry leaned back into his seat, his head swimming with all this information.  
“That bitch! She knew!” Harry angrily said, tears coming to his eyes. He covered his mouth to stop his sobs. Mr. Garrity and Sara sat by his chair and comforted him.  
“There, there, Harry. It’s o.k. to cry,” Sara consoled him. She wiped his tears with her hanky.  
“Harry, please listen. This is very important,” Mr. Garrity said, trying to help Harry to focus.  
“I’m sorry. It’s like losing mum and dad all over again,” Harry swallowed and tried to calm down. Harry took a deep breath. He gratefully drank the glass of cool water Sara held for him.  
“That’s a boy,” Sara said, cupping his chin into her hands.  
“I’m alright,” Harry told them. He brushed his hair back and composed himself. “What do you need from me?”  
“As I said before, Petunia knew about this. It is all to be given to you on your seventeenth birthday, which is on Tuesday.” Mr. Garrity showed Harry the important lines on the documents. “Vernon came in here to see the files, trying to find a way to take the money away from you.”  
“What happened?” Harry demanded.  
“We didn’t let him see them. I told them that only you could sign them,” Sara responded.  
“And what did he say?” Harry asked.  
“Your uncle said that you weren’t competent to sign anything,” Mr. Garrity told him quietly. “Believe me, if I were a wizard, I would have transfigured him into a cockroach. I would have enjoyed stepping on him. It took all my self control not to beat his head in.”  
“All these years, putting me into a cupboard, dressing me in rags, not feeding me, beating me, cursing me…,” Harry’s tears started again.  
“We sent an owl to Dumbledore. He told us about the abuse,” Sara said, as she wiped his face again.  
“No more, Harry, no more,” Mr. Garrity assured him. “The money will be transferred to Gringotts. With all the interests and investments, the funds are worth 5 million pounds. It will be transferred at midnight on your birthday. Just sign here on these papers.” Harry took the quill and signed the dotted line of six separate sheets of paper with Mr. Garrity explaining each one fully. Sara signed each one as witness.  
“Now, there is one more matter to discuss,” Mr. Garrity said, safely transferring the paperwork to a trusted owl. “The money for your caretakers.”  
“Who makes that decision?” Harry asked.  
“You do,” Sara told him.  
Harry looked up. Tears came to his eyes again. But this time, there was a look of determination in the emerald eyes.  
“How much is it?” Harry demanded, an idea forming in his head.  
“One million pounds,” Mr. Garrity informed him.  
“I want three quarters of it to go to the Weasleys. The last quarter to go to Remus Lupin,” Harry ordered. “The Weasleys have so much love to give. They gladly shared it with me, as did Remus. They were my caretakers. I wish my mum and dad were here, things would have been so different.”  
“We know, Harry,” Mr. Garrity comforted him. After Harry signed the release papers for the distribution, Sara attached it to a black owl and sent him on his way. Mr. Garrity gave Harry a large advance of muggle money so, that just once, he could buy what he needed and wanted.  
“Harry, is there anything else I can do for you?” Mr. Garrity asked gently, sitting next to him. Harry gave a long shivery sigh and wiped his glasses, still stained with tears.  
“If I ever need you again, will you help me?” he asked, plaintively.  
“Always. We’ll always be here for you,” Mr. Garrity promised.  
Sara leaned over and brushed his hair off his forehead. She traced his scar with her finger. “When Lily was having you, she was so happy. She was so beautiful,” Sara remembered. “Your dad always held her hand and would rub her belly.” Harry smiled. He loved to hear people talk about his parents.  
“Never doubt that they loved you,” Mr. Garrity said, taking Harry’s hands. “Your mother never dreamt that your aunt and uncle were such animals.”  
“I know. In three days, I am leaving the Dursleys. I never want to see those bastards again!” Harry fiercely told them. He stood up, tired but contented. He shook hands with the lawyer and hugged Sara goodbye. He rode the bus home, plotting his escape from hell.

When Harry arrived at the house, he immediately wrote a letter to Remus, telling of his arrival at Grimmauld Place on his birthday. Harry hugged his owl before sending her off. He then got his trunk out and began packing. “These clothes aren’t fit to clean with!   
I’m never going to wear these rags again!” Harry declared. He made a big pile and threw them into the trash bin, making a loud noise with the covers. “Now, I’m going to buy myself decent clothes that I wore first.” Harry walked to the shopping mall and there, with his advance, bought new shirts, dress pants, jeans, underwear and two pairs of new sneakers. When he returned home, he packed all his beautiful clothes in the trunk, eager to wear them after his birthday.

For the rest of the weekend, he ate all the food he wanted. He finished up all his schoolwork for September. It was the best weekend he had ever had at the Dursleys. “Soon,” Harry said to himself. “Soon, I will have a real home. I just wish it were with mum and dad. “ Just then, Hedwig came in through his bedroom window with a parchment attached to her foot. She landed on his shoulder and nuzzled Harry’s face. Harry took the letter and fed Hedwig some owl treats as he read. His heart jumped for joy as he read the message.  
Dear Harry;  
I have gotten your room ready. We’ll see you on Tuesday morning. Welcome Home!”  
Love Remus.  
“Yes!” Harry shouted. “Home!” He hugged himself, feeling the magic enveloping him.

On Monday afternoon, Harry’s peace shattered. He had just finished cleaning the bathroom after his shower, when he heard the door slam open. “Boy! Get down here and get these bags!” Vernon shouted.  
“I hope this house is clean!” Petunia screeched. “Diddikins, leave the bags, you might hurt yourself.” When Harry came downstairs, he felt like throwing up. “Take it easy, after midnight, you’re gone,” he comforted himself. Silently, Harry brought the bags in and placed them in everyone’s room. The clothes on his body seemed to itch him. “This is the last day I wear Dudley’s rags,” he assured himself. “This is the last day I deal with them.”  
“Petunia, darling. I need to check at the office. I’ll be home late tonight. I have that appointment, you know,” Vernon sweetly told her in the kitchen. Suddenly, he grabbed Harry, who was quietly trying to slip out, by the hair.  
“I’d better not hear that anything is out of place, or you’ll get yours,” Vernon snarled. Harry said nothing; he just looked at the floor. He was afraid his uncle would see the hate in his eyes.   
“ Please, mum and dad, help me. It’s only a few more hours,” he pleaded in his mind. Vernon yanked him and made him moan in pain. “Are you listening, boy?”  
“Yes, Uncle Vernon,” Harry answered.  
“Good!” Vernon said as he pushed him into a wall.  
“Well, nothing out of place,” Petunia observed, in disappointment. Harry said nothing as he ran up to his room. He looked around in his closet, making sure that he had forgotten nothing. He laid out the clothes he would wear, and put his Firebolt next to the window. Next, he took his wand and shrank his trunk and Hedwig’s cage. This was the one bit of magic he was allowed. He put them in the pocket of his new pair of jeans. Hedwig danced on the bureau in anticipation of their escape. Harry beckoned her, stroking her feathers as she flew to his arm.  
“Just a few more hours, Hedwig” Harry crooned to her.

Dinner was silent. Dudley watched T.V. as he shoveled food into his mouth like a forklift. Petunia read her gossip magazine as she ate. Harry quietly picked at his dinner, too excited to eat. He looked at the clock over the T.V. set. “It’s seven o’clock, five more hours to go,” Harry comforted himself.  
“Clean up, we’re done here,” Petunia ordered. Harry got up and silently took all the plates to the sink and began to wash them. Just as he had finished drying, Vernon appeared in the kitchen He was purple with rage.  
“Get to your room, boy!” he bellowed. Harry ran up to his room and locked the door.  
“Hedwig, go to Grimmauld Place now, I’ll meet you there,” Harry sent the bird out of the window. He pulled off his clothes and hurriedly dressed in his new clothes. He made sure that his trunk and cage were in his pockets. He sat on the bed, beside his broom. He listened to the screams of his aunt and uncle. His hands shook as he heard the heated discussion.  
“The money is gone!” Vernon sputtered, slamming his hands on the dining room table.  
“How can that be?” Petunia yelled back. “We’re his legal guardians, that money belongs to us!”  
Vernon wiped his brow with a dishcloth. “I went there with affidavits, declaring the boy incompetent. I was told everything had been taken care of on Friday!” he spit out. “Who told him?” Petunia looked at Vernon, her mouth wide open. “Not me! No one but us knew about this!”  
Vernon turned and ran up the stairs. Harry heard the pounding and grabbed his Firebolt. The door exploded open as Vernon grabbed Harry and threw him over the bed to the floor. “Not so fast! Where do you think you are going?” he screamed, as he smacked Harry across the face. He picked Harry off the floor and began shaking him until his teeth rattled. “What did you do with the money?” Vernon demanded, smacking him across the face again, leaving welts on Harry’s face.  
“It’s mine. My mum and dad left it for me,” Harry choked out.  
Vernon slapped him again and threw him on the floor. He stood over Harry, pushing him against the wall, preventing his escape. Harry cowered, his hands over his head and began to cry. “Daddy, please help me! I need you!” he sobbed.  
Vernon began laughing and pulled Harry roughly to his feet.  
“Help you? He’s dead, his body rotting in his grave, you little bastard! Your aunt and I got stuck caring for you. That means all that money belongs to me. Now where is it!!” Vernon screamed as he began to hit Harry again.  
“Daddy, help me, please!” Harry begged. Vernon threw him to the floor, ready to punch him with his hammy fist. Harry braced for the impact.  
A boom sounded in the room as if an explosion had gone off. Vernon turned to the sound, his fist frozen in the air, his face going from red to white. As Harry looked up, a diamond aura appeared and Harry crawled over towards it.  
“Don’t you ever touch my son again!” a voice ordered. Harry looked into the image appearing from the light.  
“Dad, is that you?” Harry cried out. He stood up and hugged him. James Potter held his son, glaring angrily at Vernon, now cowering before them.  
“How dare you? You treated my son like an animal! My wife trusted her sister. Get out of this room!” James bellowed in a bloodthirsty voice. “You starved and beat my child. You were no better than the Dark Lord! Get Out!!” James let go of Harry and advanced to Vernon, who bolted out of the room in terror.  
“Dad, come here to me,” Harry pleaded. James turned back to Harry, a smile on his lips, looking magnificent in his crimson robes. His hair was raven black and messy, just like his son’s.

James took Harry into his lap as they sat on the floor together. Harry held his father and hugged him, his heart beating madly.  
“Dad, you’re alive! Where’s Mummy?” his sentences falling over each other.  
“Harry, my little boy, my little boy,” James crooned. He cupped Harry’s face in his hands. “I’m not alive, but your mother and I have watched over you from beyond the Veil. Sirius is with us now. I can only stay a few more minutes.”  
“Dad, thank you for helping me. I put the money in Gringotts. I gave the caretaker money to the Weasleys and to Remus. The Weasleys have cared for me like their own children, so has Remus,” Harry hurriedly told James.  
“I’m sorry about your aunt. Your mother has been aching all this time, knowing our mistake,” James comforted Harry.  
“I don’t want you to go. Please don’t leave me again,” Harry begged, holding his father. James held him as if he would never let him go. He broke the embrace and kissed the scar on his forehead.  
“I have to,” James sadly said, kissing Harry’s eyes with short little breaths. “These are butterfly kisses from your mum. I’m proud of how you handled everything. I love you forever.” James reluctantly stood up as his aura began to fade. Harry couldn’t stop the tears as he held onto his father’s hands.  
“My little lion, we’re always with you,” James promised, his voice starting to fade. “Get on your broom and go to Remus. Don’t ever look back here.” Harry nodded, feeling his father’s grip loosen. James looked at Harry and touched his cheek. “Harry, someday, we’ll all be together. For now, have a good life. You’ll get through this war with Voldemort,” James assured him.

James’ image faded, the surrounding aura dimmed. Harry wiped his tears and went to the window, mounting his broom. As he looked back at the dimming light, he felt a warmth caress his body. He flew off into the sky, with these lasting words washing over him “All for you. All for the love of our Harry.”

The End


End file.
